The Case of Sexuality
by Trisforce
Summary: There was a time John and Sherlock fell for each other, all at once it seemed. Sherlock had a case, John had a [private] blog. Sherlock had always wondered what love was, and he thinks he might have found it with John. John had odd ways, private writings and an obsession with calling Sherlock 'babe'. Johnlock, eventual smut, rp, 'things'. T for now.


**Mhnkay. This was a roleplay between me and my best friend, and well, it was late at night so we cut it off. I'll make her finish it though, because I really liked it. (: If you want to know, it was my first time being John, so yes, I was John.**

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Sherlock thought hard. He needed to figure out this case but all he could think of was John. Sweet, sweet John. He had never felt like this for anyone. His brows furrowed in confusion. He didn't understand why he couldn't figure out what this feeling was, he was a genius. Sherlock knew everything-well, almost everything if you didn't count the solid system. Who needed to know the solid system? He wondered. Probably little people who needed to feel smart, he deduced.

John sighed as he typed on his laptop, seeming to blog about Sherlock. Except they were private messages, things he wanted nobody to see but himself. He smiled at his work, writing expertly about the tall one.

Sherlock looked over at John, only to see him typing away. He then turned and looked at the ceiling. "What is wrong with you, Sherlock?" He asked himself. He wanted-no needed- to finish this damn case quickly. It was all John's fault. Why did he have to be so attractive? Sherlock hadn't ever felt this way. Irene Adler had only intrigued him, but John made him feel different. John made him feel somewhere other than his brain. Sherlock understood homosexuality, but he had never really been attracted to anyone, man or women alike. John was special.

John laughed to himself at the things he wrote. Normally he was more professional, but he was writing like a crazed schoolgirl in love. _'Sherlock is different from others; he's not one to communicate with other except me. It makes me feel tingly. Goddammit Sherlock._' He continued typing, drinking some tea to occupy when he was thinking of something to drabble about the other.

Sherlock sighed. This was useless, he was one of the smartest people on this planet but he couldn't concentrate on anything. He didn't know when he started thinking if John like this, but there had always been something. The tiny tingles when there hands touched, the way John's smile made Sherlock's chest tingle. Sherlock hadn't tried to look at John's butt, but it looked nice and firm in his trousers. Sherlock started to wonder what it would feel like in his hands. _"Enough!"_ He thought, he couldn't keep doing this... "John, my tea is cold. Will you make some more?" Sherlock asked, his voice was slightly lower than normal. He just wanted to see John's ass.

John looked up from his computer, nodding and walking to the kitchen and making it. "Do you want any sugar...?" He asked, biting his lip to avoid saying 'babe' as he referenced him in his writing. "Babe, babe, babe," the blonde hummed inaudibly, "maybe make babe beg, babe." He stood laughing.

"Since when have I not liked sugar, John?. Two scoops." He muttered. He wondered why John had a weird look on his face. It looked similar to the one Irene had when she looked at him. He remembered how she described it, "It means I want to fuck you until I can't walk." Did this mean John wanted to…? Sherlock raised an eyebrow, he wondered how it would work.

John stared lovingly at Sherlock, his mind escaping to dirty thoughts he never even ventured to write. Even though the image was blurry, it seemed he had Sherlock gripping on the headboard in front of him. He smirked as he handed him his tea, trying to be as casual as possible without spitting out 'Let me fuck you so senseless all you do is writhe in an erotic pain.'

Sherlock looked at John, then looked down at the tea. He didn't want to take the tea, he wasn't really thirsty. He took the mug from John and set on the coffee table, dismissing him with a hand movement. God, he loved that ass. "Love," He thought, "Is that what it is?" Sherlock had never known love. Of course he was fond of people but only because they shared genes or worked together. Everyone assumed Sherlock was a heartless monster, but all he was just misunderstood. He wanted to feel this 'so-called' love. Something he had been sure was just chemicals until John. "What does love feel like John?" He asked.

"L-love?" John asked, eyes wide as he adverted his gaze to Sherlock. "I don't know much about it...I've only felt it once or twice.." He then smiled, scratching his neck. "It makes you want to spend every moment with the other, even if you want to slit their throats... And you just want to do silly, zany things with them, no matter how asinine."

"Do you love someone, John?" Sherlock asked. The way John had described love, he acted... as if he was in love right now. Sherlock felt jealous, did John have a lover he didn't know about? He had known about Amy, the lady from the pub, but he also knew it didn't last long.

"It's possible..." He drifted his eyes to what he was writing. A half smile, the side it seemed like Sherlock couldn't see, came across his face. "I think so...yes. Yes, I do,"

"Who?" Sherlock asked. Maybe he had met a girl. The thought pained Sherlock. Now he wished he didn't ask, what if it was a girl? What if the answer tore him apart? He thought.

"Well...let's just say they have beautiful eyes and are at my preferred height level," he sighed. "But its best not to fall for someone, Sherlock.. It's a bit painful and brings melancholy," he said as he started typing again, repeating 'babe' over and over.

"If love is so painful why do people bask in it?" Sherlock asked. He was now genuinely interested. If love was like this, why do so many people want to be in love? Sherlock wondered if society was plagued with sadists.

"Its more or less a distraction.. Just a pleasurable one for the time being, in the best cases." John said as he gazed at Sherlock. "Pain is not without love. But a little pain we can all endure, right?" He offered a genuine smile.

"I guess. John, why are people obsessed with sex?" Sherlock asked. He took a sip of tea to see how John would react. Sherlock used to be good at telling what John was thinking. Goddamn feeling.

"Heh..." John turned away, trying not to blush. "Sex-crazed whores are one thing...addicts don't consider love with their..uh, mate. But people who have hearts wait to share that special moment. I mean, wouldn't you be an expert at that?" He bit his lip. "I mean, being a virgin and everything... Have you been so distracted you didn't notice?"

"John, my virginity has nothing to do with feelings. I just choose not to involve with silly little things," Sherlock answered, rolling his eyes. Of course Sherlock had felt this way, but he was definitely about to change that opinion.

"Oh...it's actually not that silly if you think about it.." John chuckled. "Its more to deal with feelings than your..body. Although the petty people focus on body instead of mind." John raised his eyebrows, "You, being the genius you are, realize that, right?"

"Damn it, John. Have you not noticed me flirting with you?" Sherlock asked. He was annoyed, even if John had just ignored it he couldn't. He knew now what he felt was love and he was not letting that slip through his fingers. He had thought he would never have the opportunity for love. He never thought anyone could love him, when they would tease him and call him names he gave up on society and focused on knowledge.

John sat back in his chair, shocked. "I-I was wondering why you were asking questions..." He bit his lip. "I wasn't sure though, I didn't get asked how a homosexual relationship worked, so I blew it off," John exiled slowly. "You really...like me?"

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**This is where it was like, 1 AM. Or something. Mhnkay.**


End file.
